Dreaming of Tuscany

I’m an old soul.

How did I know that? Because I’m tired. I’ve been tired since the day I was born.

You know I cry every time I see a landscape of a rustic town somewhere in Tuscany? I feel that’s where I belong. Not exactly rusting, but rather old and wise like the lines at the face of our grandparents. They’ve seen a lot. Maybe enough that has made them smarter.

All these years I have been wondering: What is my mission in this world? Like I’m always looking for a reason to exist. There has to be something else I’m just another useless entity loittering the universe.

There has to be one thing I’m meant to do. That’s why I keep returning to this world. But what is that I cannot fathom. I’m over 30 years old and I feel that time is swiftly running out on me. Clock is ticking, if I don’t figure it out soon I’m afraid I never will.

I’m beginning to rule out being what society expects every woman to be. You know, getting married, starting a family and all that insanity. I don’t see any convincing sign that I’m meant to live that life. Hell, I can’t even stand being with another person every second of my day. I always need space. My solitude.

Now that’s something I value dearly. My time with my self. Just keeping silent, pondering, and arguing with my other ego. Some people will mistake that for loneliness, even pity you because you’re alone. Well you can feel alone even when you’re with someone.

And that’s an even worse tragedy.